Through the Pages of Books
by ClosetDegrassiLover
Summary: After taking a year off for his mental health, Eli is finally at University. But what happened during that one year when he became a recluse to the world, and what repercussions does that have on his friends? Eli/Clare
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_Murphy's Law: Whatever Can Go Wrong, Will_

Eli hadn't been this nervous in months. To be honest, he isn't used to the idea of school. After he graduated high school, Bullfrog recommended he take some time off to work on his mental health, that way he could fully prepare for the upsets in college. So, instead of spending his hours underneath Birch trees , reading Elliot and Hawthorne or crafting nasty prose with the help of a dark coffee, he spent his days running and tapping pencils against paper as he struggled with the world's largest writers block.

But now, he stands in front of the University of Toronto, his arms wrapped around books he spent the last three weeks reading. At least half of the stories he'd read before in a desperate attempt to find a twinkle of inspiration, but nothing. It seems the moment he stepped out of Degrassi, he lost everything that once made him special. He drove himself to the brink of insanity, hiding from people so they wouldn't know he wasn't in school. He just felt lost sometimes.

Eli steps inside the classroom staring at the slowly filling class. His eyes dart around the room for a vacant, unassuming seat where he could hear properly, but not get called on. Then he spotted it. Third row, one extra chair compared to the other rows. Perfect sight of the professor, but tucked away so he wouldn't draw attention.

Just as he was about to sit down when a small and thin girl slipped into the seat, a look of relief on her face while doing so. Eli considered confronting the person until he fully saw who it was. Then, all Eli wanted to do was sprint out of the classroom. His chest feels heavy and he needs to sit down, but the last thing Eli wants to do on his first day of classes is have a panic attack. Gripping his chest, he sits in the first chair available.

Little did he know, his attempt to find a secretive, unassuming seat is now disrupted by this one person and he sat in the front row. The professor is a crusty-looking man who slams his books on the podium and clears his throat. "Welcome to Introduction to Literature, my name is Professor Stalls and I will act as your maestro of literature this quarter." Even though his voice sounded like the deadening noise of rocks scraping together, Eli appreciated the monotonous noise. His racing heart slowly went to a casual pace and he shakily got out his notebook. "This course will be a comprehensive overview of classical English literature and make comparisons as such. Now, just to start off the class right, I shall choose an unsuspecting volunteer from the glass." He pulls a roster from his desk. "Mr., uh, Goldsworthy."

"_Eep!"_

A small noise from the third row, the last chair to the left, made Eli shut his eyes. His plan to be invisible these four years of college went up in smoke with one simple sentence. "Yes, sir?" He replies, wanting to hide under the hood of his sweatshirt and disappear.

"Can you name Shakespeare's comedies?"

"U-Uh…" It's like the answer dropped from his head. Of course he knew the comedies – any idiot would. "Taming of the Shrew, uh, The Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing… um…"

"'Um' is not a comedy, Mr. Goldsworthy. Luckily, your grade will not be affected by your lack of impromptu knowledge. As any class should be started, we're going to start with a laugh. Can anyone else name any of the comedies." He peers down at the roster. "Ms. Edwards?"

Now he officially wanted to die. "There's quite a few left." He hears a small voice offer, but it's just as shaky as his hands feel. "The Merry Wives of Windsor, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Twelfth Night, The Comedy of Errors, Merchant of Venice, As You Like It—"

"That's enough, Ms. Edwards, nice work." He put his hand to his chin. "I find it interesting that Mr. Goldsworthy professes male-dominant plays, where Ms. Edwards has a larger knowledge where women take the spotlight in some acts. You know, many writers and intellectual minds benefit from working with opposite minds. It brings me to an idea." _Oh dear God, no._ Eli thought, his worst nightmares truly being realized. It was as if time literally thought it didn't fuck him up enough when they first meet, so they thought to give it another go.

But he couldn't deny a small part of him eager to exchange words with the girl who he tucked in the back of his mind. It's not as if they left off on a terrible note; in Degrassi, they tried to rekindle a friendship once, but it appeared far too difficult for either of them. Eli even suggested they pick up where they left off once, but Clare admitted she wasn't ready for a relationship, especially not with him. He had to admit, the last part hurt dearly, but Clare tried to backtrack and say _because_ she cared so strongly for him, it'd only make it worse when they inevitably broke up. It was quite peculiar how a girl full of hope and the idea of forever turned into a cynical and pessimistic person in regards to relationships. But, unfortunately with his disease and her shyness, the rejection was far too much for their friendship to bare. It lay to rest for horrid 'hellos' in the hallway and the occasional conversation when Adam was around. But for the most part, there's only a gaping hole of what they once were.

"The duration of this course shall be done in pairs. You shall turn in three assignments each time. A first draft, a draft revised by your assigned partner, and your final draft. Mr. Goldsworthy and Ms. Edwards, you two have the lovely experience of being my quarter's guinea pigs. I'll be quite curious to see how you two turn out. As for the rest of you, you are fortunate enough to choose your own partners. Now turn to page 34."

Whatever was on page 34, Eli isn't sure. Words aren't words at this point. He is torn between the horrible feeling of excitement and nausea at the idea of being English partners with Clare again. But, this isn't high school and they aren't just meeting for the first time. It isn't stolen glances and wished kisses. It is a foundation of crashed hearses and dead girlfriends. Of Bipolar disorder and divorces. A pairing of great failure.

When class ended, Eli wanted to sprint. He wanted to dart from this classroom, apply to another university, and end this before it started. But something rooted him in the spot. Something made him stop and his heart race. That something is walking toward him, her slender hips swaying in a faint blue dress, curling at her knees. Eli opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out.

Of course, being as classy as she always is, Clare gave him a small smile, as if testing to see what his reaction would be. Eli couldn't even tell what sort of reaction he'd give her, his arms were quaking so much. "Hello again, Eli." She says. "Seems like classic literature has a destiny for us, I suppose."

"Seems like every person on this planet has a destiny planned for us, regardless if we cared or not." Eli says and without thinking, finds himself smirking. "I suppose it could be worse."

"You mean you could be perpetually paired up with Heather Poulette?" She offers.

Eli groans. "That was one time, Clare, and you have yet to let me live it down! Somehow, after everything, that is the one thing you fixate on!"

She shrugs. "It's the one time I've seen drunken Eli and it turns out drunken Eli is even a bigger flirt than regular Eli if anyone could believe it to be possible." Her smile widens. "An image that will be forever imprinted in my mind."

"I really wish you would un-imprint it. For my pride's sake." Clare lifts her eyebrows at Eli's words and he can't help but crack a smile. It's ridiculous to think that he has any sort of pride left when it came to Clare Edwards, but he likes to think that he could regain some back.

"I shall do my best, Mr. Goldsworthy, but there are no promises." Somehow, just the smallest twinkle in her eyes could make Eli completely forget his place, who he was, or how he disastrously he messed up. She is standing before him and joking around and all he wanted to do was extend these seconds until they never ended. "So, when do you want to work on the first assignment?"

Eli thought she was speaking in a different language. "Huh?"

For the first time since they saw each other, Clare broke into a genuine smile. "You haven't changed a bit."

A rich crimson flushed on his face and Eli suddenly remembered himself. "Oh, sorry." He apologized, knowing if anyone thought he should change, it'd be the girl standing in front of him.

He's startled when she reaches out to him, rubbing his shoulder for a small moment. "I'm really glad about that, Mister." She says. "It's nice to see that you're still you."

"W-Well," Eli isn't entirely sure what to do. "I have to admit, I stopped paying attention when I heard 'Mr. Goldsworthy' and 'Ms. Edwards' in the same sentence in an English classroom. I thought I either went back in time or stepped into an alternate universe."

Without another word, Clare dug through her book bag and rifled through it until she produced a few pieces of paper with cramped handwriting. "Here. Why don't you come to my apartment on Saturday if you're free and I can take you to this coffee place near my place? I know you'll love this place. It looks like Grunge Metal was born there."

He snorts. "But what about the dorms? I'm currently in my own personal hell living with forty guys, all of which have yet to take a shower since coming to campus.

"Um, ew." Clare laughs. "Before coming here, I petitioned to the board to live off campus. Turns out, I've mastered the art of writing B.S. papers thanks to you and Adam, and I can fight with the best of them. So, now I'm living in the Concordia Apartments on Bleaker."

"Are you smoking crack, Clare?" Eli cries. "The only reason I'd ever go to Bleaker Street is if I wanted to order a prostitute!"

"Well, now you have two reasons." Clare pokes Eli in the chest. "Prostitutes and me. What more could you ever ask for?"

The two stand awkwardly next to each other, shuffling and waiting for the other to say goodbye. Their silent stupor is broken when students to the next class start brushing past them, breaking their tension. "Okay, then." She says, biting her lip and shuffling her feet. "I'll see you Saturday then? Apartment 103."

"Right. Okay." Eli said, trying to pull himself from the spot.

Clare steps away from him. He watches her leave, a part of his chest hurting terribly. When he's about to leave, someone throws themselves against him and he almost falls backwards. But when there is the very distinct smell of lavender and sage, Eli has to remind himself not to freak out that he is hugging Clare Edwards. "I'm so glad to see you again, Eli." She whispers in his ear, before breaking away and dashing down the hall.

XXX

Eli sits in his dorm room, his hands wringing together over the day's events. This is one of the few, still moments when his roommate isn't present to permeate their dorm with weed, smoke, and sex. He isn't sure how people get paired in the dorm system, but he knows it is flawed. Eli did notice one problem, though. On their 'Likes/Dislikes' survey, they both said that they enjoyed 'good music' and while Eli thought that obviously meant people like The Clash, Black Sabbath and Godsmack, this Neanderthal thought it meant idiots like Bruno Mars and Usher.

He felt his heart racing again. He tried to do the exercises his therapist taught him, but to no avail. No breathing exercises, verbal repetition, or closing his eyes could help. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and quickly hits his speed dial, the ringing becoming some of the most anxious moments he's felt in a while. "Kiddo, I hope this is important because I'm close to convincing your mother in letting me install stereo speakers into the walls in our T.V. room!"

"_Don't listen to him, Baby Boy! He's not even close!"_

Just hearing his parent's voice helps him a little bit, but it still takes him a while to be able to get out words to explain what he's feeling. The mood shifts on the phone when he doesn't immediately joke back and Bullfrog clears his throat. "Everything okay?"

Eli hates this. As soon as it goes from being about something goofy to something that may touch on his disorder, he's treated like an entirely different person. Just like Bipolar Disorder has two sides, people treat him as two separate people. There's regular Eli and crazy Eli. Regular Eli can handle joking and teasing, while crazy Eli has to be treated with delicate care. The thought of his double life makes him furious, but he can't show that. He can't show when he's upset. Because that's when people start to question him, start to tip-toe. "It's been an interesting day, Dad." His therapist thought it'd be smart to start referring to his parents by the socially acceptable names, even though they felt weird in his mouth.

"How so?"

"You'll never guess who my English partner is."

Bullfrog lets out a throaty chuckle. "Woah, does that sentence bring me back. I gotta admit, I remember the first time you asked me that question. Back then, I believe your response was 'Some floral-wearing, religious prude who thinks that Charlotte Bronte should win a Nobel Peace Prize'. Let's hope it's someone who can match your dark, cynical writing."

"She can, I suppose." Eli continues. "But not because that's how she writes, but she's been influenced by many dark events. You know, she once has a crazy boyfriend."

"Well, if she dates a guy, he's bound to be crazy."

"No, like, seriously crazy. He once crashed a car for her."

Bullfrog grows silent. "Eli, that's not funny."

"Does it sound like I'm trying to be funny? Trust me, there is no brick wall behind me and there is no microphone in my hands." Eli grabs his hair and hoists himself off the uncomfortable dorm mattress, spitting out through gritted teeth. "Clare Edwards is my English partner, I shit you not."

The door slams open. The first thing Eli sees is the bottom half of some girl's ass, her shorts to tiny to ever consider a functional article of clothing. But when she's practically shoved onto the bed adjacent to his, his blood boils. Eli's serenaded to the sound of hormones in all their grandeur, clutching the phone tightly in his hands. "Kiddo, you there?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Eli shouts, causing a temporary pause in the sad excuse for a porn video next to him. "I'm trying to have a conversation with someone – can't you fuck somewhere else!"

His roommate's tousled head peeks out from behind the girl's leg as he says, "Must you be so crude?"

Eli's mind races as he thinks of everything he'd like to do to get back at the boy ruining his serene moment with his father, but has to calm himself down. Revenge never worked. Look at his past. Grabbing his coat and keys, Eli storms out of the dorm room and slams the door, the noise resounding in the hallway. "Sorry Dad, my roommate decided he wanted to have his extracurricular activities in our room."

"That boy is at least keeping the condom industry in business. Good for the economy."

Eli snorts, this one joke pervading his cloud of fury. As soon as he's outside, everything doesn't seem quite as horrible or quite as dire. In fact, that idea that he called his father in a fit of panic because someone from his past is in his present all seems rather silly. "This call is stupid. So what? Clare's my English partner."

"Eli, don't write this off because a few minutes ago, this was a very big deal to you."

"So she's my English partner!" He cried, stumbling down a few steps across campus. He peers at the trees, all losing leaves as the multi-color plumage floats to the ground. "Doesn't mean it has to be like last time. I mean, before everything we were a really good team when it came to writing – and friends. She's knows how to balance my macabre style and I know how she can make guys read her writing without gagging. After all, the point of school is to get good grades. Last time she editing something of mind, it got published! Remember?"

"I think we all remember that story, Eli." Bullfrog says solemnly.

Eli tries to shake the effects of Stalker Angel out of his mind, but cannot. "I'll deal with it, Dad. I got to figure out how to deal with this kind of stuff if I'm ever going to be able to do anything on my own."

"Well… okay." Bullfrog doesn't sound entirely convinced, but Eli is past the point of caring now. "But just remember if anything is too much for you, you can just come home, Eli."

"Dad… I can't. I can't just leave because it's stressful. I've got to learn to handle these sorts of situations. Clare isn't even a situation! Just an old friend."

"An old friend with a big history."

"Most friends have big history's Dad." Eli said, more resolved than he ever was. "I can handle it. When Clare and I were in the thick of things, I was undiagnosed! If anything, this is a good thing. It'll test me."

"A disease isn't something that should be tested, Eli." He replies, but there's an air of defeat in his voice. "If it gets too much for you, you have to say something. Don't let it go past the point of no return again, okay kiddo? Not just for you, but for Clare. We all know that you two have had an explosive history and I don't want the two of you hurting again."

"No worries, Dad. I can handle it." Eli says, letting a little excitement that's he's been trying to stifle creep up. "It'll be good. Clare and I are in different places now. We've both had hard times and we've both dealt with them. It's a new chapter."

"Fine." Bullfrog sighs. "Just remember that when you called me, you were working yourself in a panic. That doesn't mean nothing, Eli. You have to look out for yourself and I'm sure your professors will understand if you explain the situation."

Eli scowls. He's tired of people understanding. He's tired of special treatment and people acting like he's about ready to snap at every second. For the first time, he's been given an opportunity to do it over, except do it correctly this time. "It's decided. I'm going to be English partners with Clare Edwards."

"I didn't realize that you were struggling so much with that concept." A voice sound behind him and Eli whirls around. Clare steps up to him, too many books in her hands and tipping slightly under the weight. "If I'd known I was such a repulsive person to be in contact with, I'd just go become a nun."

Eli laughs. "Bullfrog, I gotta go."

"But, Eli—"

Eli ends his call and takes a few books from the mountainous pile on top of her arms. "What'd you do, Edwards? Rob a library?"

"Yes, actually. Now you're an accomplice." She retorts with a grin.

For the first time, Eli can finally get a good look at her. By all accounts, it seems like the same Clare. The same, twinkling, yet devious blue eyes and innocent smile. But, something seems a little off. Unlike high school, she's much more slender than Eli can remember, the curves he once loved now only whispers from her loose dress. Her face thinned out and she uses a few boney fingers to brush her now-long locks behind her ears. The most absent, however, is nothing about her. It's the absence of a golden cross, her neckline bare. Eli blinks to keep himself from staring, but Clare just chuckles. "My eyes are a little north, Mr. Goldsworthy."

Eli wants to die on the spot, but chooses the alternative to just play along. "My apologies, Ms. Edwards. It seems the hormone-addled college life has gotten a hold of me. Where are my manners? I apologize, I left my cape at home so I can't lay it over puddles for you."

"Another time, I suppose."

Clare goes to grab a few of her books back, but Eli ducks out of the way. "No, you're not getting rid of me that easily, Blue Eyes." It's strange how easy the old nickname slides through his teeth, as if no history passes. He considers apologizing, but Clare's face lights up at the name and he grins. "I need to see this brothel you choose to live in if I'm going to get any sleep tonight. Not to mention, my roommate uses our dorm room as his own sex factory and I need a distraction."

"You should feel right at home, though!"

"Ouch! Way to hit where it hurts!" He feigns pain, grabbing his chest, following her down the road.

The two talk about light topics, such as how they chose the university or their other classes. Eli could Clare is far more curious about other aspects of his life, but is kind enough to shy away from them. Eli wrinkles his nose when they reach the Concordia Apartments, known for the high numbers of car break-ins and potential drug deals outside the apartments. He's not sure which is more disturbing; the fact that they literally had to go through a locked chain-linked fence or that Clare seems entirely at home in this bizarre neighborhood. She jiggles the doorknob to Apartment 103 a few times, kneeing the door until it groans and lets the two in.

Despite the desire to grab Clare and drag her away from here, the interior feels more comforting. While the walls and rickety cabinets leave something to be desired, Clare decorated sparsely with posters of vintage movies and at least three bookshelves in the living room, shoved with various titles. Few pieces of furniture litter the apartment, Clare tossing her keys on a small table by the door. "Well, I don't feel like I'm going to get Hepatitis." He comments.

"Please tell me you have your shot, though. Just in case." Clare says, grabbing a glass out of the cupboard. Eli stares at her, aghast, and she just laughs at him. "I'm kidding, Eli. Loosen up and make yourself at home."

Eli steps into the kitchen, startled by the array of measuring objects tossed on the counters. Scales, measuring cups, marked Tupperware, among other things. "OCD much?" He asks, lifting up a container labeled '4 oz.'. Clare rolls her eyes, offering him a water.

"So, not the whore house you imagined?" She asks.

He peeks around. "Well, it's not entirely awful, I will give you that, but that's only because you know how to clean and decorate. I swear to God, I feel like we'll be victims of a drive-by any moment. How did you even get your mother to agree to let you live here? I mean, she of all people, would not like this. How unclean of you!"

"My mother… is not an issue." Clare shrugs. "And it's not the end of the world. I can afford it, it's close to school, and I have two locks on my door."

"But is not subjecting yourself to forty girls really worth succumbing to a pimp?"

"What is it with you and this prostitute thing?" Clare laughs, walking out of the kitchen to a small black couch, sitting down on it. "If I didn't know any better, you've been here before for that exact reason. The gentleman doth protest too much?"

"You're hilarious, Edwards." Eli says dryly, joining her. The two are tense on the couch, no longer masked by the throngs of people sliding in and out of classrooms and the campus. Clare clutches her water tightly until her knuckles turn white. "So, what's this assignment you're talking about?"

Clare, relieved at the change in topic, says, "We're supposed to take a relationship between a comedic pairing and make it dramatic. I was thinking about working on _A Midsummer Night's Dream_, with the characters of Demetrius and Helena, except through the eyes of Helena."

"That's a great idea, Clare." Eli says, nibbling the end of his thumb. "Wanting someone who doesn't want you back – who doesn't understand that feeling?" The moment he said it, he wishes he hadn't. Clare goes slightly rigid, looking at her water. "Unfortunately for you, you're going to have to deal with my insane writer's block." He quickly continues. Even though he doesn't want Clare to know about his embarrassing situation, anything to alleviate the gross uncomfortable air from his previous statement. "I haven't had a case this bad since—" He stops, now wishing to disappear.

"Since the play." Clare finishes softly.

He looks at her, the girl unable to even lock eyes with him, and he groans. "Fuck, Clare. I'm so sorry." Running his hands down his face, he stares at the floor. "It sounds so stupid, but I'm still learning how to be normal around you."

Eli's surprised when Clare scoots closer to him. "Wanna know a secret?" She whispers, sending a flurry of chills down his spine. He can't believe she's so close to him, their faces barely inches apart. He wishes, she'd go back to where she was because as if they were magnets, he finds himself minutely leaning closer. "I've never known how to act normal around you."

Eli blinks. Straightening up, he tries to wrap his mind around the sentence. "Can we start over?" He asks after a few moments, Clare still next to him her leg grazing his and it's all he can do to keep focused. "I mean, we can't erase the past, but can we try over again? Maybe be friends?"

"I thought you couldn't be friends with me." Clare says, her eyes sad. "You never used to talk to me."

"I know." Eli snaps. Clare is startled, but he doesn't mean to be so sharp at her. It's more frustration at himself. "I'm sorry for that. But that's the old me. The new me would like to try it out. I'd like to try and be friends. If you're okay with that."

She peers at him for a while and his lower lip quivers at her observation. "I would like that." She looks at her hands. "I've never been very good at making new friends."

"Neither have I."

With smirk, Clare puts out her hand. "I'm Clare. Clare Edwards."

Eli rolls his eyes, but takes the gesture anyway. "Eli."

"I'm eighteen, a writer, introvert, love Jane Austen and Frank Sinatra."

"This is stupid."

"You're stupid."

With a groan, Eli says, "I'm nineteen, pretend to be a writer, hate the majority of world, especially lovers of Sinatra."

"Congratulations. You're a dick."

"Edwards!" Eli cries out, but can't help but burst into laughter. Clare lifts one eyebrow before getting off of the couch. His pocket buzzes and he pulls out his phone, gritting his teeth at the message. '_Be careful.'_ "God, Dad. You are the ultimate cockblock." He says softly to himself before tucking it away. "Nice to meet you, Edwards."

She turns, her arms folded in a very indignant sort-of way. "My pleasure, Mr. Goldsworthy."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey! I'm going to try and not write too much in the beginning Author's Notes, but I just wanted to do a quick shout out to Sushi.23, Lady Azura, and anyonesghost – names I always see with my fanfics, something I'm truly appreciative for! **

Chapter 2

_Not As Easy As One Would Hope_

For some reason, Eli is afraid she isn't going to show up.

It's strange that one occurrence over the lifetime of their relationship made him concerned when Clare had shown up ever other visit. He sat on the bench directly in the middle of campus. His palms started sweating. This felt very familiar. Running his fingers through his hair, Eli tried to settle his nerves down, but remembered the last time he waited on a bench for Clare Edwards. He had to shut his eyes. It felt like the campus is swallowing him whole, even though the logical part of him told him everything is fine. She's just a few minutes late.

Unfortunately, that's what he told himself the first time.

When he's about to get up and go back to his dorm like the idiot he feels like, someone runs up to him. "Oh my gosh – I'm so sorry!" Clare breathes when she finally reaches him. Eli blinks, his body cooling off as soon as he catches sight of her, sprinting. "This is so like me!" She smacked herself in the forehead, her breath short as she bends over. "My run this morning went so much longer than I anticipated. I found this trail and I wasn't quite sure how long it was until I was on the other side with half the time I used to get there to get back."

"Did you sprint here?" Eli asks, his eyes wide. He fights the urge to laugh at her – completely exhausted and sweaty, gasping an apology – but fails. She eyeballs him at the action and he puts his hands up. Pointing to her iPhone strapped on her arm, he says, "Usually, that can be used as a telephone. Unless you have a fancy new phone that's not actually a phone."

She stares at it for a moment and then joins his laughter. "Aw, damn." She mutters, rolling her eyes. "I suppose I can't blame the endorphins, can I?"

"You could. But the real question would be whether I believe you or not."

She only smiles in return, sitting on the bench next to him and leaning back. "Despite the agonizing sprint on the latter half of the run, that was rather enjoyable." She barely turns her head when she asks, "Are you still on your crazy exercise and diet regimen?"

Eli tenses, knowing this is in some indirect way of asking whether or not his Bipolar disorder or not is in control. "Yeah, I suppose so."

Clare rolls her eyes at him. "I'm not asking about that, stupid." She groans, trying to push him, but failing. He arches an eyebrow at her comedic state. "I'm asking because it'd be nice to have a running or biking partner from time to time. I tend to run without any consequence of where I'm going – I get lost quite easily. Interested?"

"You sound like a terrible running partner." Eli replies, but when she smacks him, he protests. "I mean, someone who willingly says they are going to lead to blindly into peril – no thank you!"

"You suck, Goldsworthy."

"All that's missing is you sticking your tongue out at me." When Clare complies, he chuckles. "But, I have to admit, the company might make up for it."

"It will." Clare states. "I'm quite a gem."

"Modest, too."

Clare hoists herself out of her seat with a groan, offering a hand. Eli just laughs at her to get himself up and she shrugs. "I could use some breakfast. Why don't we stop by my apartment so I can shower, grab my paper, and then we can discuss important things over brie and wine?" Eli stares. "Or we can discuss how to get an 'A' over dry toast and runny eggs?"

"Much more to my liking, Edwards."

Eli spends the majority of the time of Clare's shower wandering around her tiny apartment trying not to think of the fact that she was, in fact, in the shower. He picked up all her scales and measuring cups, remnants of granola and rice sticking to the bottom. Out of curiosity, he opens her fridge, greeted by stacks of labeled Tupperware, stating what day, meal, and portion size of each container. Furrowing his eyebrows, Eli grabs 'Tuesday, Lunch – 3 oz.' and opens to a tiny portion of chicken. A sick feeling creeps into his stomach and he's not quite sure what to think of this discovery. However, he doesn't feel like he has any right to say anything. Quickly putting it back, he shuts the refrigerator and steps away to something that makes him feel much better.

It always made Eli laugh to look at Clare's book collection. It was always the perfect foil to his, with only a few of the same titles. He smiles when he sees a collection of Chuck Palahniuk books, followed by the collective works of Jane Austen. Every book on the shelves seems completely Clare; no title is out of the ordinary or questionable.

That is, all but one.

Eli gapes at it. He pulls it off, flipping through a few pages, feeling like someone punched him in the gut. He fights the urge to put it back because he needs to know. The water shuts off and he listens to the door open with fervor, darting over to her closed bedroom door. "Uh, Clare?" He calls through the door, his eyes transfixed to the page.

"What's up?"

"I was looking through your books and stumbled across something peculiar."

"Oh, _that_." Clare laughed. "I know I stole your copy of _Choke_, but you have to believe me – at one point in my life, I did intend on giving it back. And then, I thought to myself, he hasn't asked me about it yet. So I acquired it by default."

"_You_ stole my signed copy of _Choke_?" Eli cried. "I've been blaming Bullfrog for years!"

"You'll have to take me to court if you want it back!"

Eli chuckles weakly, the book feeling heavier in his hands. "Actually, that wasn't what I was referring to."

"Really? What are you referring to? Or would you prefer to be vague some more?"

Eli steps away from the door, turning the book over. "'Walking in glass slippers sounds grand. It sounds like the tales of fairy tales. It sounds like once you've reach that point, you've achieved the pinnacle of status.'" Eli hears a crash from Clare's bedroom and a panicked rustling. "'What no one tells you is that glass slippers do not mean success. They allow people to watch you curl your toes in pain as you attempt to mask the hurt, but everyone can see how transparent you truly are."

"Where did you get that?" Clare cried, darting out of her room in only her bra and underwear, causing Eli to choke. She doesn't even seem to notice her otherwise indecent attire, her eyes frantic as she points at the book in his hands.

Eli coughs to try and keep himself from staring, even though he felt like the Universe isn't playing fair. Sure, he knew going to college, he'd probably have a lot of chances to see drunk college girls in their underwear, but the last thing he'd thought he'd see is Clare Edwards – entirely sober – in a lacey bra, standing right in front of him. Demanding his eyesight go down, he continues, "'In her debut novel, _Walking in Glass Slippers_, Clare Edwards weaves a emotive tale of being invisible and transparent at the same time, fighting to stitch wounds together. Described by the _Chicago Times_ as a 'beautifully crafted story of growing up', _Walking in Glass Slippers_ is sure to make the reader question their own healing and put it to the test.'" He stops, fixating on Clare's face because he knows if he glances anywhere else, this could easily be the most awkward and worst reunion breakfast known to man. "You wrote a book." He states.

Clare's eyes fall to the ground, her toes playing with the fraying strands of the carpet. "I wrote a book."

"And it's published."

"And it's published."

Staring at her, aghast, Eli cries, "This is where you explain yourself, Clare!"

Clare sighs, crossing her arms – _Thank God_, Eli thought – and shakes her head. "I want to, but—"

"But _what_?"

"But," Clare winces. "I just realized that I'm standing in front of you half-naked, and besides being completely embarrassed, this is definitely awkward."

"We're friends." Eli offers. "Then it shouldn't matter. I could take off my shirt if it'd make you feel more comfortable."

"That's the weirdest logic I've ever heard – hey! What are you doing?" Clare cries, a cross between a strangled choke and laugh.

Eli, in a swift movement, pulls off his shirt and tosses it on the floor. Clare gapes at him, blinking. "This is by far the weirdest thing we've ever done." She says.

"But a good weird." Eli says. "Because it involves less clothing."

Strangely, taking off his shirt relieved a very palpable tension between the two and he felt like less of a creep staring at anything other than a wall. "Yes, because now I'm definitely going to talk to you about my book." Clare drawls, rolling her eyes. "Let me put some clothes on, put your shirt on, and we'll go to breakfast. We'll get homework done and yes – I will tell you about my book."

"I kinda like this way better!" Eli calls after her as she darts back to her room.

Gazing down at the book, Eli flips open the cover and looks at the first chapter. _"I once read a quote saying that there are always happy endings. If it isn't happy, it isn't the end. In a weird way, this idea made me frightened of happiness. What would it be the end of? If I find a finally find a way to be happy, does that mean that something will draw to a close? In that way, I try and find quite endings without emotion. It's much easier to let go of things that I feel nothing for than lose something important…"_

"I really wish you wouldn't read that." Clare comments, twisting her wet hair into a loose side-braid, dripping onto her t-shirt.

"Um, you've revoked all rights of keeping your stories to yourself when you decided to get published and take it public." Eli says, setting the book back on the shelf.

"Is there any way I could convince you not to go get it, which I'm sure you're already planning to do so?" She asks.

"Not a chance, Edwards."

"What if I paid you?"

"What is wrong with you?" Eli exclaims. "You wrote a _book_. Not only did you write a book, but it's published. The _Chicago Times_ read it – and loved it! Why aren't you more psyched about it? How do I not even know about it?"

Clare fiddled with the end of her long braid uncomfortably. "Actually, no one really knows about it." She admits, sighing. "I don't really like to talk about it."

Eli tries to understand, but finds himself just thinking she's insane. They make their way to whatever café Clare has in mind in an awkward silence, Clare looking anywhere but Eli. Just as he felt when he first met her again, something feels different. On the outside, she seems very… Clare. Despite a newfound discovery of a few swear words and the occasional outward sex appeal (maybe that part was just him, but he tried not to think about it), Clare remained relatively the same. But… something seems off. Seems sad. When they were in high school and he looked into those crystal eyes, he found hope and the idea of forever. Now? Sometimes he had to look away because behind everything, there was something sad lurking behind them, begging to be released.

Clare stops in front a café that looks like they'd be mugged just by walking in. The walls are covered in graffiti and the sign hangs over the doorway. "We're here!" She exclaims.

Eli doesn't move, so she grabs his arm and pulls him forward. For a moment, he considers walking back, but when the door opens, he's glad he didn't. The walls are lined with record albums and band posters, most autographed. Some are ripped and some are faded to the point of indistinguishable, but Eli can name almost every band. "Hey Mark!" Clare says, waving at the person behind the counter.

"Clare Bear, how I've missed you!" Mark returns with a laugh. The fact that this man is saying 'Clare Bear' and is one of the most tattooed barista's Eli's ever seen is almost comical; he has gauges not just in his ears, but his nose, with a few scattered piercings on his face. "It's been almost a week – are you avoiding me? Because I gotta tell ya, it's _you_ who ruins _my_ street cred."

"You really shouldn't put so much stock in labels." Clare laughs. She turns to Eli, who's gazing at the walls in awe and says, "This is my friend Eli. Excuse him, he may be having an aneurism."

"Man of my own heart, it seems!" Mark reaches across the counter and offers a hand, which Eli takes in a daze. He points to Eli's shirt. "Dead Hand – excellent. Went to their concert in '89 when they were first a fledgling band. Just as kick ass then, but I'm sure you can 100% believe it. Actually, that's the band that made me first notice Clare Bear here." He smiles warmly at Clare, who just rolls her eyes. "She started coming in almost every day, about the strangest addition to this café because she stuck out like a sore thumb with her un-tatted arms. But then, I saw her mouthing along with "Paisley Jacket" and the rest is history."

"Funny story, this is actually the guy who introduced me to Dead Hand. We went to high school together." Clare said.

Finally able to speak, Eli blurts out, "My dad would so want to platonically marry you."

Mark bursts out laughing. "Tell your dad I'm taken."

"Not like that!" Eli exclaims.

Clare, much to Eli's appreciation, saves him. "His dad is Bullfrog, the shock jock—"

"You're shitting me!" Mark exclaims. "We listen to him every night shift! Funny as fuck, that man! Please," He stares at Eli with pleading eyes. "Please bring him by some day." Rubbing the back of his head, he laughs. "Well, I'll be a son of a bitch! Clare Bear – friends with the son of Bullfrog. What a weird-ass world!"

"Well, it's been a weird-ass day." Clare admits. "We'll have two coffees and menus, please. We might be camped here for a while."

"No problem – sit wherever you want!" Mark moves to the mugs and then stops. "Oh, the wife says that she couldn't put your book down. Wants me to beg you to sign her copy and demand that you start your second one, when you're not too busy with, you know, school." He laughs. "Sometimes, I think the woman thinks the world revolves around her."

Eli glowers at the mention of Clare's book and can't help but mutter, "So, apparently not _everyone_ hasn't heard about it."

"Eli, please don't be an ass." She snaps, scooting in the booth. "I meant people from back home."

"I'm sorry, Clare, but I'm just having trouble wrapping my brain around it." Eli says, nodding thanks to Mark when he brings them their coffee. He waits for Clare to put in her usual two packets of sugar and little cream, but is surprised when she takes a sip off of the black coffee, winces at the bitter taste, and then looks back up at him. "Just explain to me how you can write a book and not tell anyone."

"It's quite simple, really." She shrugs. "The summer before senior year, I had a lot of time to myself and ended up writing a book. I edited it – because you and I both know that is definitely more my forte – and then submitted it to a few publishers. When one agreed to publish it, I realized the only person I really wanted to tell was, well, _you_." Clare gives him a small smile, but Eli can't help but look down. "I don't mean that to make you feel bad, but you're the only one who'd understand what this meant to me. And… we weren't speaking. Actually, you weren't really speaking to anyone, if I recall correctly. I almost told people several times, but every time I started, I got interrupted or something was more important to people. So I put it off. Again and again. Next thing I knew, it was printed and on bookshelves. No one noticed. Months passed. Then I went to school." Clare gripped her mug. "It just never seemed appropriate to bring it up. So I didn't. It's not really a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" Eli repeats. "Clearly your definition needs revamping."

"Okay, you're probably one of twenty people who's ever read the first page." Clare says. "So I keep that copy to myself. If you _must_ read it, don't read too much into it." She warns. "You know me and personal stuff. We're not the best of friends. And that book is grossly personal. But," She smiles. "We have other things to discuss, like our Shakespeare projects."

"But, Clare—"

"I really don't want to talk about it anymore." Clare snaps.

"Okay." Eli says, pulling some papers out his bag at his side. "Let's talk about Shakespeare."

She gives him a relieved smile. "Yes, let's."

**XXX**

Being friends with Clare had a lot of perks. The one he appreciated most is that Eli now rarely is in his dorm room, avoiding horribly awkward encounters with his roommate. He also received an intense workout partner; the frail, enclosed Clare was no more. Clare biked and ran with a passion that Eli quite didn't understand how she got so much energy. Not that he's complaining; he rather enjoyed talking about F. Scott Fitzgerald while running up a hill to keep his mind off of the fact that he was running up a hill. He asked her about her extreme eating habits from time to time, which she merely brushed off as a help to her busy schedule, but couldn't help but be somewhat concerned. It's like time hadn't passed, though. The two would be inseparable, but didn't need to be in constant conversation. Some of his favorite times were the two of them sitting under the trees on campus, reading in a comfortable silence.

Being friends with Clare had a lot of disadvantages as well, unfortunately, none of which something that could be helped. Just like anything unresolved, the more time they were together, the more he felt the repressed feelings within him. And there were moments when he felt like Clare was right there with him. He had to convince himself that they were better off as friends and functioning as such. For the first time, he didn't feel nauseous before meeting her. And, for the first time since graduating Degrassi, he no longer feared a blank Word document or a paper and pencil. His writing flowed again and for the first time, he knew exactly how to reign it in. Even Clare said that she's never read something of his that seemed so personal and real – that he stopped hiding behind adverbs.

Eli strolls outside of the university, waiting for Clare in their bi-weekly run around Toronto. When Clare said she randomly ran around, she wasn't kidding. At first, Eli didn't realize how long they were running about, until the next morning when he could barely move his legs. After a while, he got used to it and looked forward to these days, listening to heavy metal, barely able to hear the soft words from Clare's books on tape she listened to as she ran. He made fun of her in the beginning, but now was waiting for her to finish _Crime and Punishment_ so they could talk about it over coffee later.

"Eli!" Someone shouts.

Thinking it's Clare, he turns around and freezes. Helen Edwards waves hesitantly at him and he wants to disappear. Once Eli crashed his car into a wall for Clare, he might as well have knocked her up for how Helen treated him. Only his desire to maintain this relationship with Clare drags his feet forward and he offers an awkward smile. "Hello Mrs. Edw- I mean, Mrs. Mart—Um, hi." He finishes lamely, shaking his head at his foolishness.

She gives him an encouraging smile. "Clare mentioned you two had rekindled a friendship," She says through tight lips, her displeasure for this fact written all over her face. "Well, maybe you can help me. I thought I'd surprise Clare this weekend and stop by, but I can't seem to find her dorm anywhere. Not even on this map." Helen says, peering around campus.

"Dorm?" Eli repeats quizzically. "Clare doesn't live—"

"Yes, yes," She interrupts. "I know she doesn't live in the regular dorms, she told me. She says there's a Christian dorm on campus she got to – with a curfew for boys and such. Do you know where it is?"

"Um, I've never really—"

"Eli, hey!" Clare calls, complete in her running gear. Waving, she jogs to reach him, her smile faltering when she sees his companion. "Hey who's – oh gosh, Mom!" It only takes a moment of utter horror to strike on her face before she wipes it clean to replace it with excitement. "Man, Mom! What are you… doing here?"

"Can't a mother surprise her daughter?" Helen says, going in for a hug.

Eli hadn't seen Clare and her mother interact in quite some time, but he felt uncomfortable watching it. Helen went to embrace Clare, who just went rigid and awkwardly patted her on the back and broke it off as if Helen burned her. "Of course she… can." Clare says. "But, Eli and I were about to go for a run—"

"Goodness, Clare, your stupid training can take a break for a day. You won't gain all your baby weight back in one day." She says, pinching Clare's cheeks. In a swift movement, Clare swipes her hands down and throws an apologetic look at Eli. "So, why don't we go to your dorm and you can change into something more appropriate? I'll take you to dinner."

Clare's eyes widen and she scratches her head. "Actually, Mom, one of the girls' on my floor got really sick last night and I'm trying to stay clear so I don't catch it."

"Oh." Helen says. "Well, then we can go shopping and get you an outfit for dinner."

"What's wrong with this?" Clare asks.

"We want you saying 'young adult' not 'future lesbian', come on." Helen pushes Clare's back, who resists slightly.

"Mom, why don't you go to the car and I'll meet you. I just have to reschedule with Eli, since you've so politely interrupted our plans." She says. When Helen leaves – complete with a scoff – Clare turns to Eli brick red. "Oh my gosh, Eli. I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry for you." Eli says, cringing at the woman walking to her car. "Has she always been that critical or am I just realizing it?"

"It's easy not to see the critical she gives to others when she's constantly attacking you" Clare says. "Sorry about her. She seems to think all my time with being friends with Adam and the occasional hang-out with Fiona turned me gay. I'm about one argument away from being doused in ammonium." She shudders. "Urg, I cannot handle my mother right now. I mean, I love her because she's my mother and I have to, but just a phone conversation is taxing."

"I'll tell you what." Eli says. "I'll call you in two hours with a last-minute assignment emergency."

"Really?" Clare cries. She grabs his arm with excitement and pulls him closer. The two are only inches apart. "I would love you _forever_."

"And here I thought 'like you a lot' was as for as I'd ever get with you." Eli laughs. "In return, you have to do me a favor."

"Anything."

"Tell me why your mother thinks you live in a dorm."

Clare's smile vanishes. "What? Oh, Eli—"

"Don't 'oh, Eli' me, Clare. Why are you lying to your parents? It's so not like you."

Honking interrupted Clare's struggle, making her wince. "Fine. Fine, I'll tell you later. Do you want to have dinner at Mark's Café and we can discuss it there?"

"You're forgetting your charming mother."

She grinned. "And you're forgetting you're supposed to be saving me." His breath catches at how close she is, pulling closer. "Trust me, once she starts getting me into clothes with her stamp of approval, we'll be there for hours. Call me." She says sternly, a finger wagging in his face. "Promise."

It was no use. As soon as she widened those beautiful eyes of hers, he was a goner. "Fine, promise."

"Thank you!" She squeals, kissing him on the cheek.

He watches her leave, his fingers on the place her lips touched him. It feels warm, like an imprint on his skin. Shaking his head, he flips open his phone. "Hey, it's Eli." He says when the person picks up. "I need a favor."

**XXX**

"My husband's gonna kill me!" The barista, Terri, shrieks, putting a trembling hand. "Would it be horrible to call him and bring him on down?"

Bullfrog lets out a throaty laugh, shaking the woman's hand vigorous. "The more the merrier! And clearly, you haven't seen my boy and Clare interact before. Once they're together, it's like the world disappears. I mean, fucking bombs could be going off and the two would still be bitching about old, dead white guys."

"That, I'm totally aware of." Terri says. "Mark says ever since Clare brought him in here, it's turning into more of a book club than a punk rock café."

"I'm going to disown you if this continues." Bullfrog says to Eli, who laughs.

Pulling Bullfrog's sleeve, he says, "Now remember, you have a job tonight."

"I know, I know, kiddo!" Bullfrog laughs. "See if you are handling the Clare situation or need to be pulled out."

"And?" Eli cries.

"And see if Clarabelle is acting weird. I know what I have to do, you made me notecards!" Bullfrog laughs, slapping Eli on the back. "Relax. I'm proud of you for calling me. Show's real maturity."

"Yeah, maturity." Eli says exasperatedly. "Can't handle a relationship with a girl and calls his father."

"Loosen those strings, son. Everything—"

"Thank you Eli, you are officially my hero!" Clare comes darting in the café, her hands filled with bags from store with frilly logos and girly pictures on the front. "I literally was going to claw her eyes out – oh, hey Bullfrog!"

"Clarabelle, it's been a while!" Bullfrog says, but he looks surprised. Eli's not sure why, but his eyebrows pull down.

He pulls himself together. "Looks like it's parent-surprise day. Hope you don't mind."

"Are you kidding?" Clare says, dropping all her bags and running up to give Bullfrog a hug. "It's been _way_ too long! How are you? Still kickin' ass and takin' names?"

"Lord – Clare said ass! I spent months trying to get you to say that!" Bullfrog says, now back to his usual self. But, it unnerves Eli. He's seen that look before. When they were in the throws of dealing with his disorder, Bullfrog's face would fall from time to time; that's how Eli knew something was going out of control.

"What's in the bags?" Eli asks, watching in amusement as Clare kicks them to the side as she says a quick hello to Terri.

"Ug, the world's ugliest clothes. I'm returning them tomorrow for something I may actually wear." Clare says, rolling her eyes at the bags. "Don't worry. I'll keep one thing so I can wear it next time I go home, but that woman…" She buries her face in her hands.

Bullfrog throws Eli a 'help me understand' look and Eli laughs. "Clare's been shopping with her mother."

"Oh!" Bullfrog makes a face. "Greater men would've crumbled, Clarabelle. I admire your strength."

She smiles at him through her fingers. "That's why I keep you around."

The evening is pleasant. Bullfrog entertains them with jokes from the station – things getting particularly rambunctious when Mark arrives, nearly having a stroke introducing himself – and Clare tells stories of her and Eli (only the embarrassing ones for Eli), going on an elaborate rendition of their first biking experience where he lost control and fell into a canal. But Eli didn't mind. Clare told these stories with such fondness, it was hard to be mad at her for poking fun at him. In fact, he rather enjoyed it.

"Aren't you going to finish that?" Bullfrog says to Clare when she puts her napkin on her plate. Eli's struck by the bluntness of the question with his humorless voice. Clare blinks, unable to respond.

"I-I'm not that hungry." She says. "I'll just take it home to finish later."

When she removes her napkin, Eli realizes Bullfrog is right. All the food is pushed to the edges of the plate, making it look like the majority was eaten. Eli used to do this when he was little with broccoli. He wonders if this is how she always was with their meals, and he's just noticing it now.

Bullfrog stares intently at her for a moment. "I'm going to the bathroom. Be back, kiddos."

When Bullfrog leaves, Clare lets out a sigh of relief. "He's rather… inquisitive." She says, still a little nervous. "Something you two share."

"Well, if you were able to open up better." Eli jokes. "Mrs. Dawes called it years ago – you struggle with intimacy."

"Oh please."

Eli gazes at her, unsure of what to say. Every day, he thinks he's getting closer to understanding her, but it only opens more questions. "So. Your apartment."

She groans. "I've had a very taxing day with my mother. Can't this wait until later?"

"Fine." Eli puts up his hands. "Only because you look so pitiful."

"Thank you." She says with a shake of her head.

"Got our leftovers!" Bullfrog announces. "Clarabelle, you know how Cece cooks. You can have mine." He puts his box on top of hers, Clare frowning. "I'm not gonna need it." He eyes her as she smiles at him, quickly masking whatever distaste she felt before. "Let's go, kids. We all know how much college kids love their s…leep." He grins. Eli groans, reminding himself to punch him later for that. "Oh, and Clarabelle?" Bullfrog says. "This weekend, Eli's coming home for Cece's sister's wedding. You busy?"

Clare blinks as Eli waves his hands frantically to make this stop. "I-I don't think so."

"You should come! Cece can't stand her sister – the two are about as opposite as girls can get. I'm sure she would appreciate the positive company."

"Of course!" She smiles. "I'd love to!"

"Great! And you know what that means…" Bullfrog chuckles. Clare looks at him, confused, and Eli slaps his forehead. "Minor at a bachelorette party."

**Thank you for reading. Please, if you have a moment, give a review! Anything – even suggestions! I only have the next few chapters planned out!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So, I read the past two chapters and I realized how much I enjoyed them and where it was going. So I'm going to try and bring it back, especially since there's going to a big hiatus.**

**However, a certain plotline has created some problems. If you follow me on Tumblr, you probably know I've been less than thrilled with reaction from the sexual harassment storyline – especially with the victim-blaming that seems to go around. BUT, since this fic was prefaced with the fact that Eli and Clare didn't start dating again before school was over, it presents a good opportunity.**

**I feel I need to say, then, that the past remains such: Clare did intern at the Interpreter, but no one knows what happened.**

**Let us continue, shall we?**

Chapter 3

_Booze, Dresses, and Bells_

Eli runs his hands through his hair, trying to quell his nerves. Bullfrog enters the kitchen, eyeing his son with amusement. "Jeez, kiddo. You're going to give yourself premature grey if you keep on looking at the door. Your mother and Clare will get here when they get here."

"Ug, don't remind me." Eli groans, not taking his gaze away from the door. Clare had a late class on Friday, so Cece went to pick her up, probably forcing her out to dinner in the process. "The less you two talk to her, the better I'll feel."

"Oh come on, what do you think is going to happen?" Bullfrog smacks his shoulder. "I mean, it's only an entire weekend that Clare – the love or your life even though you refuse to admit it – is spending with your parents, both of whom you may have to babysit because I am positive we drink more in one sitting than you and Clare has done in your entire lives. The only way I'm getting through this weekend is hooking an IV of whiskey up to my left arm." Eli gives him a weary look. "Come on, kiddo, you know I'm kidding!"

Eli rolls his eyes. "Actually, I don't think you are."

Bullfrog shrugs. "Well, you never know what's at the bottom of a tequila bottle until you drink it all, I'll tell ya."

"That's a terrible life lesson." Eli says, but wants to say more. Bullfrog seems to sense this and grow serious. "Dad, the other night when we had dinner… what did you think? Did you notice something off?"

Eli's seen this look before. The look Bullfrog used to give him when he was slowly losing it in a spiral of manic depression. An eerie chill always flew through his bones whenever he saw it, like he knew something was going to explode, but he couldn't stop it. "Son, I have to say. I know it's been a really long time since I've even seen Clarabelle, but does she look… skinny to you?"

It was hard to Eli to even say the word 'yes'. Because if he did, he would be admitting all his fears may have an element of truth to them. "Of course she does. There's a lot of things about Clare that scare me right now. Did you know that she wrote a book and told no one about it? I ordered it on Amazon, but it was backordered. _Backordered._ So, not only did she write a book, she wrote a book that so many people are buying, it's backordered. And it's like she doesn't care. And don't get me started on her bizarre eating habits."

Bullfrog's silent for a moment. Eli can tell he's processing everything, but he it doesn't mean he likes it any more. It takes a lot to silence a man like Bullfrog. "When you we going through all your Bipolar Disorder, it was really hard on all of us. You, your mom, and I. But we got through it. Together." Bullfrog says softly. Calculated. "I'm not saying it was easy. It wasn't. But we got through it because we're a family and that's what family does. But," He sighs. "Imagine if you went through something that terrible, but you didn't have the support you did. Imagine if you had something terrible with no help?"

Eli shudders. "I can't imagine. It'd be Hell."

Bullfrog nods. He opens his mouth to continue, but the door swings open. "Baby, I picked up a hitchhiker! She's batshit insane – she said that I shouldn't have five glasses of wine with dinner! The nerve of some people!"

Eli groans, slamming his head on the table. It's already started. He should've just told Clare the wedding was off, making up a huge story to excuse it. He was a writer – he could've pulled it off! "I was merely saying we could stop by the store and get a few bottles of wine for home! No potential DUI necessary!" Clare's giggles from the hallway float into the room.

"As with any situation, the ladies make the night all the more interesting." Bullfrog nudges Eli's arm. "Prepare yourself for this weekend. And help yourself to anything in the alcohol cabinet. If you want to survive this weekend, you're going to need a stiff drink in your hand at all times."

Eli can't help but think that's relatively true. He makes his way to living room to see Clare laughing with his parents, her hair thrown into a messy bun that makes her so incredibly sexy to him, he has to shake his head to get the thoughts from his head. _Friends, friends, friends_… he tells himself over and over. Hopefully, if he continues, he'll believe it at one point.

"Sorry we're so late! My stupid professor," Clare groans as she sets her bag down. "Decided to have a last minute quiz that took a half an hour with ten minutes left! Let's be better with time management next time!"

"Or," Eli offers, taking her bag from her. "It was an actually ten minute quiz and you wrote too much being the overachiever you are."

Clare makes a face. "Damn you, Goldsworthy."

"You're so easy to predict, it's not even fun!" Eli exclaims with a laugh. He pauses. "Well, it's a little fun."

Clare rolls her eyes, following Cece to the bedroom. Eli rubs his face. "This is going to be a long weekend." He grumbles.

Bullfrog smacks him on the back. "Go take a cold shower. Always helps."

"Dammit Bullfrog!"

**XXX**

Eli can hear the adults in the other room 'prefunking', or getting horribly wasted without stepping out of the house yet, and it's all he can do to adjust his tie without bursting into laughter. He thought Bullfrog was loud; get a bunch of middle-aged rockers together, it becomes a raging concert with only seven people. "Holy crap!" Clare exclaims as she slips into the bathroom without so much as a knock. Eli laughs as she locks the door behind her, her eyes wide. "These adults are making me feel really lame as an adolescent. Apparently I'm not partying enough to be considered a college student!"

"Join the club." Eli mutters. He fiddles with his tie a little more, the fabric not listening. With a giggle at his predicament, Clare steps over, folding the tie over itself. Eli has to stare at the ceiling to keep himself from realizing the close proximity. "Thanks for coming this weekend, by the way."

"I couldn't leave you all by yourself, could I?" Clare chuckles, patting his chest when the tie's in place. "There. Wow, Mr. Goldsworthy. You do clean up well, I must say."

"Obviously."

"Could you be more smug?"

"Absolutely!"

Eli can't help but laugh as Clare does, the same innocent naivety from their first few months knowing each other. If only he could go back in time to that moment. He would tell himself not to sweat the small stuff and enjoy every moment of being a teenager. Everything seems to get so progressively harder as time passes and he would give anything to relive his high school years, but do it properly this time. "Clare?" Eli asks, wishing she'd take a few steps away from him so he could start breathing again. "Can you tell me why your mother thinks you live in a Christian dorm? And what's going on with you two?"

It's like a switch. Clare's smile instantly fades and she looks at the ground, seating herself on the toilet and pointing her toes. "Right. I forgot I promised you an explanation." She says absently. "My mother and I don't really have a relationship anymore, to be honest." She shrugs. "My senior year…" Clare stops, her eyes watering. Eli's shocked – he never knew such a simple question would elicit such a response. Clare gazes at her hands as she tries to control her tears. "…it was hard. Some stuff happened that – that I didn't… _handle_ well. I-I tried to tell my mother once. She never listened. Said some hurtful things. I vowed at that moment I would deal with my mom at an arm's length. It's one thing to have friends walk away from you. It's another to have your family."

Clare dries her eyes quickly. With a quick smile, she says. "My mom thinks I live in a Christian dorm because that's what she wants to believe. She wants to believe that I'm still the perfect Christian daughter with good grades and the perfect life. Since she wants to believe that it's true, it seems like it is."

Eli kneels down to where Clare is. Hesitantly, he lifts his hand up and wipes away a tear, shuddering at the warmth of her cheek. She stares at him, her eyes unblinking, but full of pain. "What happened?" He whispers.

Clare shuts her eyes. "Nothing that can be helped now." She replies cryptically, not quelling any of the uneasiness in his stomach. "Some things just can't be mended."

Eli opens his mouth to argue, but there's a rap at the door. "Eli!" Bullfrog yells from the other side. Eli curses his dad – he has no idea when in his life his father became the ultimate cockblock. "Hurry your skinny ass up! We have a bachelor party to get to! DD – haul ass!"

"You're the DD?" Clare giggles, completely composed now. She stands and runs her fingers through her hair, shaking the loose curls. "Me too! I think we fail as college students."

"My parents are out-partying us." Eli sighs. "Doesn't really bother me, though. The whole 'party' scene has never really been my thing."

"Me neither." Clare laughs. "One of these days, I'll tell you about the time I drank at Degrassi."

"_What?!"_

"Neither the time nor place." Clare says, turning him around. "Now, go be the pinnacle of DD and make sure all those adults behave themselves. I have my own task with the females. Your dad was right – Cece and her sister together are like putting Imogen and Marisol in the same room."

"You're so right!" Eli exclaims, laughing at the comparison. "I never thought about that before."

"Oh, trust me, I have thought about it a lot." Clare says. "The only people who could handle those two consistently is a therapist. And that's only because they're getting paid to deal with everything."

"It can't be _that_ bad."

"Oh really? Last night your aunt told Cece that she had to wear two earrings that matched, otherwise it'd throw off the aesthetics of the wedding. Your mother proceeded to tell her that she must've gotten her 'aesthetics' out of an American Girl doll catalog and then started to pull the ruffles off of the God-awful bridesmaids dresses, only to have your aunt come at her with a pair of fabric shears. I haven't had this much excitement in quite some time."

Eli grimaces. "I'm so sorry my family's insane."

Clare shrugs. "What family isn't insane? Keeps life interesting." She pulls him in for a hug, lingering a little longer than Eli thought would be socially acceptable for 'friends' to hug. "Text me tonight to keep me entertained? Promise?"

"Promise."

Eli tried to enjoy himself at the Bachelor party – he really did. Sure, it was rather amusing watching his father and six other men he didn't quite know get wasted to the point of unable to speak in coherent sentences, but something nibbled at the corners of his mind. He couldn't seem to have a proper time until he had the answer. Figuring the adults could handle themselves for a moment, he slips out of the bar silently, dialing an old number that had grown up with him like a security blanket.

"Why are you calling at this ungodly hour?" A voice groans from the other side.

Just like that, Eli's nerves relaxed. "Hi Adam, how are you? I'm fine, thanks for asking."

"You're an ass." Adam grumbles. "Why in the hell are you calling me at one in the morning?"

"I have a question."

"A question that couldn't wait until the rest of the world is awake?" He whines. "What are you doing up so late anyway?"

"Bachelor party." Eli quickly answers. "My question's about Clare."

"God, I'm having déjà vu."

"Shut up. Senior year of high school. What happened with her?"

Adam grows quiet. That's when Eli's fears are confirmed and he know something's gone terribly wrong. "To be honest?" Adam starts carefully. "I'm not entirely sure. Why – she say something to you? I know you two were getting close again after your freak encounter."

Eli sighs. "She alluded to something, but wouldn't say. I'm a little worried. She's still Clare, but she seems… off. Like something happened and she never got the mending that she needed."

"I can't say I'm entirely surprised." Adam says. "Look, I'm not trying to hide anything from you, dude, but I honestly have no idea. We sort of fell out of touch after a while. She did with everyone, now that I think about it. I think Alli knew for a while, but then she went onto MIT for early admission."

"How did that happen?"

"Well, I suppose it started with this internship she landed at the Toronto Interpreter. You now that big newspaper? She got this coveted spot as an intern there, got totally obsessed – unhealthy obsessed. Like you trying to scare Fitz obsessed. Then, she suddenly stopped talking about it. Actually, stopped talking to anyone, really. I dunno what happened, but she just… disappeared." Adam sighs. "Sorry I couldn't be more help. How is she, by the way? I've almost called her, like, a million times asking for advice on girls, but I'm not sure if it's welcome."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Right before she stopped interacting with everyone, Connor and I pulled this little stunt that sorta caught on fire at Degrassi. We started tweeting #StuffClareSays whenever she was really annoying and soon everyone did it. It got a little out of control, to be honest. Looking back at it, it wasn't that cool of us."

Eli gasps. "Why would you do that, Adam?"

"I know, it was stupid and a little cruel. I feel bad about it now. I always thought that's why we drifted apart. I never really knew." Adam groans. "Man, I gotta get up early tomorrow, so I should jet. Tell Clare I say hello, if you want."

Eli knew it was stupid to be upset at something in the past, but couldn't help. "You know, you should just pick up the phone and call. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

"I don't—"

"Come on, it's Clare." Eli laughs. "What's the worst she could do?"

"You're kidding, right?"

Adam has a point. When they hang up, Eli taps the phone in his hand, his mind buzzing. Even if Adam wasn't much help, he gave him one clue. The Interpreter. Eli knew Clare wanted to be a journalist since she was quite young, but was surprised to find she wasn't studying journalism in college. Actually, her major at the moment was undecided, but when Eli brought up journalism, Clare quickly changed the subject. She even went as far as to say 'Sometimes dreams don't work out and you have to move on.'

What happened to make the Clare as she was today?

_Your mother and aunt are quarrelling again!_ A text illuminates his screen and Eli chuckles. At least all the men got along. Even if they didn't, all they had to do was punch one another and grunt, and the fight would be done. Women are so much more tricky.

_What is it about now?_

_The flowers! Cece's threatening to choke her with the barbed stemmed roses_. Eli can't help but laugh. Sounds like something his other would not only say, but do. _Even with alcohol, they're not letting the wedding go?_

_It seems to fuel the fire!_

Eli chokes on his ginger ale, sipping gingerly at the bar as he tries to focus on a game of rugby. The bartender shares a few kind words, obviously picking out that he's the DD of this rambunctious affair, but notices Eli's far too concerned with his phone to really pay any attention. As he stares at it, waiting for Clare to respond, it lights up with a picture of her face.

He forgot about that day, sometimes. Maybe he forced himself to forget. It was way back – before they even dated the first time. Adam received a new camera for his birthday and was snapping photos. Eli stole it from him, annoyed at his very first paparazzi moment, but then found Clare laughing. She found a meadow of mature dandelions, their white fluff blowing in the wind like permanent bubbles. With a swift move, he took a picture without her noticing, telling Adam to never let her know. He kept the secret and Eli kept the photo.

There it was, staring at him. A simpler time, Eli supposed. "Hello?" He says when he answers.

"I figured texting was silly." Clare's bubbly voice on the other line makes him feel a little better – not like the sober creep at the bar that he was. "Not to mention, I've been hit on by like, five guys since coming in here. I need a distraction!"

Eli can't help but feel the painful twist of jealousy in his stomach. "We could come meet you." Eli offers. "I mean, my party's so far gone, I think I could convince them to let all the animals out at the zoo if I felt so inclined."

"That's not necessary, but that is comforting. I appreciate the sentiment." Clare chuckles. "How are the boys?"

"Drunk as hell and being obnoxiously loud. The girls?"

"Trying to out skank each other. I've taken at least five incriminating photos. All these women will be eating out of the palm of my hand when I find out." Clare says darkly, Eli unsure if she was joking. When he doesn't respond, she continues, "I hope you realize I'm kidding."

"O-Of course."

"Yeah, by your tone, I don't think I believe you." Clare laughs. "Don't you know me – but at all?"

No. Eli laughs to cover his hesitation. "You're so strange, I doubt anyone could truly pinpoint that question."

"Basis of my charm."

"You keep telling yourself that." Eli says. "Man, would I be totally lame if I told you that I'm getting really tired and just want to go home?"

"No, because if you were that would mean I'm lame too." Clare sighs. "People always say being the DD is so much fun to watch everyone make fools of themselves, but really just a snooze fest. I have a feeling I'd be much more content if I was about a fraction into the bottle as much as the screaming lunatics next to me."

"Sorry you had to be the DD at my insane family's party."

"I'm beginning to think it's the only reason I was invited."

"You're probably right."

The two continue to talk and Eli finds time melting away far quicker than he remembered when this evening started. For a moment, he thought the two of them were back to normal. Like they were back in high school. Hearses weren't crashed, relationships weren't destroyed, and lives weren't ruined.

It was nice.

**XXX**

"I'm never getting married."

Clare lifts an eyebrow at Eli' words as the two of them sit outside the respective doors of the bride and groom, seated in sweats and sipping cups of coffee. "Really?" Clare asks.

"Well, no." Eli hastily recovers. "I just mean, I'm never getting married like this. I mean – it's just a party. What's the big deal?"

"Theoretically, it's supposed to be the happiest day of your life." Clare sighs. "But I think a lot of people focus so much on this stupid day that they don't actually pay attention to what's going on in the marriage. Looks are terribly deceiving."

"How do you figure?"

"Look at my parents. I mean, looking in, they had the perfect marriage. Christian, two daughters, always did the right thing. Too bad my dad was too busy getting blow jobs from his secretary and my mom recovered by whoring herself out to the first guy who opened his legs." Clare groans, smacking the wall with her head. Eli didn't know what to do. He'd never heard Clare speak so bluntly about her parents divorce like this. He didn't even know Clare's dad cheated on her mom. "Sorry," Clare mumbles, mistakening his silence for being appalled. "That was harsh. People heal in their own ways. Who am I to talk, anyway? The point is," She says, her eyes distant. "The wedding isn't the point. I don't people understand that. The point is not the wedding. It's the marriage. People put all this stock in the wedding, when they should be figuring how they're going to make it work. All I know is I have to be 100% sure if I'm going to get married."

"If?"

"If." Clare nods. Eli sees the resolution in her eyes and can't argue. There's so much conviction in them, he hasn't the heart to do so. "Who knows what the future holds, you know?"

She turns to gaze at Eli, her blue eyes sparkling. He smiles when she does so, his head leaning in ever-so-slightly. She returns the sentiment and he can feel the beating of his heart quickening. She even starts to close her eyes. He can feel the brush of his lips against his and—

"Clare!" Bullfrog comes barreling down the hall. The two jerk back, both with blush creeping on their cheeks. "I can't get this damn tie to cooperate, and Eli said you helped him last night. Could you be a doll?"

Laughing and shaking her head, Clare stands up. A pain in his chest aches as Clare does so, as if their own world they've created is actually gone. It doesn't exist unless they're alone. Clare's finger nimbly maneuver the tie, making Bullfrog smile when it's complete. "You look rather dashing today, Mr. Goldsworthy." She smiles.

"Sex on a stick is the expression you're actually looking for." Bullfrog gives a throaty laugh. "You two, however look like hobos. I know you're not in the wedding, but a little decorum, children?"

They nod, continuing after he disappears. Clare glances at Eli tentatively. "I'll see you at the wedding, then?" She asks.

"I guess you will."

**A/N: Setting everything back up! It feels more focused now, anyway, so maybe this ridiculous hiatus I put you all through was necessary. I liked this chapter because it was a little brief interlude from the dramatics of college. We all have to get back to reality sooner or later.**

**Please review if you can!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Eli sets a flower on his desk, gazing at it fondly. He vaguely remembers as Clare laughed, helping him pin it to his jacket right before the ceremony, casually waving her hand as he tried to express how beautiful she looked. It'd been a while since he'd seen Clare dress as fancy as she had – they'd never truly gotten an opportunity to go to a dance together and he never experienced the joy of having Clare Edwards as a dance partner.

The weekend passed far too quickly, he thought bitterly, placing the rose in direct view of the sun so the moisture could reduce and he could tuck it away through the pages of books. Eli wishes he could rewind and play all the moments over again, each one more perfect than the next.

"You're back."

Eli turns to see his roommate scowling, throwing his jacket on the floor. "And people say you don't pay attention." Eli comments, grabbing a few books off of his desk. "Lucky for you I'm on my way out."

"Off to meet the ever-so-needy girlfriend?" He mocks. "God, you two hang out so much in public, when do you ever have time for 'moments alone', if you get what I'm saying."

"People in America can understand what you're saying and they're a country away." Eli drawls. "Firstly, Clare's not my girlfriend. Our relationship isn't like that."

"So you wouldn't care if I asked her out?"

"Hell yes, I would mind!" Eli exclaims, a surge of jealousy overtaking him at the mere thought.

His roommate wags an annoying finger in his face. "And you say there's nothing going on."

Eli slaps it away. "I'm not upset about it because I want to date her. I'm upset because you're a misogynistic asshole who couldn't find his way out of a square room even if there was a door on every wall."

His roommate just chuckles, but Eli can't respond. To be honest, he lied. It _was_ because he wanted to date her. Sometimes, it was all he could think about. Maybe if he put more hints, he could get him to kiss him. He shook the wild thoughts from his mind. He and Clare finally were on a good rhythm – why jeopardize that? People always say guys and girls can't be close friends, but Eli was determined to prove them wrong.

"So, I know I'm fifteen minutes early to meet you in the Quad, but – oh my." Clare barges into the room at the unfortunate time of Eli's roommate taking off his boxers, his ass in direct view of the door. She puts her hand up and gazes at the ceiling, her eyes crinkling with giggles. "I would say I'm sorry I didn't knock but are you aware your door is wide open?"

Eli's roommate hastily pulls his shorts up and gives Clare a sheepish grin. "If you were willing, I'd be happy to—"

"That's enough!" Eli snaps, snatching his textbooks and quickly shuffling to Clare. "I'm sure you have the remainder of the female student body to screw, so if you'll excuse us."

Eli can't help but reveal his frustration, even when he knows Clare's trying not to laugh at him. Once they're out of the room, she shouts, "You can just cross me off of the list!" She exclaims. "Just do someone else twice – I'll pass!"

The anger filters from Eli's body like a switch until he's smirking at her. Eli knew that it'd be ridiculous to assume Clare wanted anything to do with him in the 'more-than-friends' genre, but sometimes he thought that they could be. There were hints – musings that he obsessed over. From the almost-kiss before the wedding to many moments throughout the wedding, he thought that maybe she felt the same rush when she saw him. But then, when there were these moments, when she acted as if they were nothing but friends, he thought otherwise.

They're walking in a comfortable silence, but Eli can't help but be slightly anxious. The events of the past two days have been constantly coursing through his mind.

_It's hard not to believe in love for a second at the end of a wedding. In this small moment, the two people are looking at each other like everything doesn't matter; the flowers, the cake the dress. Eli tosses a glance at Clare and is surprised to see her eyes are watery. He nudges her and mouths "Are you alright?"_

_Clare nods, brushing away a few wayward tears. The couple is announced and everyone's on their feet clapping and Clare leans close. Eli can smell the scent of her faint perfume wafting around, even though he can't pinpoint the scent. "How do we get from being this blissfully happy to the end? It's not fair."_

_Eli isn't sure of what to say. Maybe it was because he didn't know the answer. Really it was he didn't want t know. He wished it didn't exist. He wanted to tell Clare that divorce is a rare occurrence, but knew that would be a lie. So, he took a breath and answered the best he could._

"_Sure, sometimes it ends bad. But I think that it makes succeeding all the more special." Eli says. "Look at Julia and I. On paper, we were perfect for each other. If I believed in soul mates, that would be mine. But sometimes that's not how it goes. But would you ever trade all those experiences to not feel the pain."_

"_But that's different." She sighs. "Julia was stolen from you. She wasn't supposed to leave you."_

_Eli thought for a moment. "What about us, then?" He offers. Clare looks at him at his words, her blue eyes unblinking. "Would you have traded it? All of the horrible stuff – Stalker Angel, Morty, Love Roulette, Fitz? Would you have traded everything in and never known me, just to save yourself the pain."_

_Clare doesn't answer right away. Eli can tell she's truly thinking it over – in a charming way that only Clare could succeed in when contemplating whether their relationship was a waste of time. "No." She finally says simply and Eli's chest warms. "I wouldn't trade it for everything."_

"_Me neither." Eli smiles, relieved. "That's how we deal. We just move."_

"_Where?"_

"_On."_

"How's Alli doing?" Eli asks, needing to shatter the silence for the first time he's ever experienced with Clare.

She blinks. Eli knows why – the two of them were never close. For the most part, Eli didn't really care for Alli and he knew the feeling was mutual. "Um, she's doing well. She got early admission into MIT and is doing breast cancer research there. May I ask why?"

Eli wills his ability to create bullshit stories to come through. "I was just wondering. I guess I realize I dropped out of touch with so many people, I just wanted to see what they're up to.

Clare looks at him suspiciously. "And out of all people, you wanted to talk to Alli? Alli Bhandari? The girl you once said only appeared to be smart because she hid her true self under hairspray and eye shadow?"

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, Eli chuckles, "Um… yeah. I mean, I know we weren't the best of friends, but I just wanted to see how she was doing."

Even though she was obviously suspicious, Clare sighed and pulled a pen from her bag. She scribbles a number on his palm, shaking her head while doing so. "I know that you're not really calling her to catch up and swap stories, but here you go nonetheless."

"You're not going to pry why?"

Clare shrugs. "I doubt you'll tell me anyway. Either way, it doesn't particularly matter." Checking her watch, Clare gives him a slight hug. "I'm gonna be late for Modern Literature. Gotta run!"

"Are we still on for study dinner tonight?"

"Yeah – oh wait!" Clare smacks her head. "I actually meant to tell you that I needed a rain check."

Eli tried not to let the flood of questions release from his mouth as he kept his face neutral. "Okay. You're mom planning another sneak attack?"

When Clare doesn't answer, he feels his heart quickening. "I'm meeting an old friend." She says, a tension settling on them that Eli never felt before.

_There's so much frivolity, it's almost ridiculous."You're right." Clare groans, grabbing a glass filled with wine, sighing deeply as she sits next to Eli. Eli eyes the glass, a strange sight in Clare's hand. Even though she's legal, it's still a strange concept for him._

"_Well, obviously." He remarks. "What about this time?"_

_Clare rolls her eyes at him, but gestures to the dance floor. "I could never get married like this."_

_Eli's surprised. Even though she never really discussed it, he knew she always wanted the stereotypical wedding. White dress, church, the flowers… "Seriously?"_

_She nods. "What's the point. I mean, does your aunt know half these people? And all this money spent on everything – is it really that important? The money could be going into a house or something for their marriage."_

"_Overlooking the fact that you're turning into a frightening cynic, I agree. It seems like a lot of nonsense, if you think about it. I mean look at this fucking cheesecake." Eli gestures wildly at the cake before him. "Fuck you, cheesecake. You are useless."_

_Clare starts to laughing, covering her mouth as she tries to reign it in, but is spurred further when Eli joins. "Has anyone ever told you you're absolutely ridiculous?"_

"_You, actually. On multiple occasions."_

"_I'm sorry to inform you that it's true."_

_Eli smirks. "Show me one normal person and I'll show you someone in extreme denial." Eli's smile falters when he notices Clare's cheesecake is only picked out, the fork never quite reaching her mouth. In a moment of bravery, Eli comments, "Do you not like it?"_

_Startled, Clare places her fork down. "Huh?"_

"_The food. You've barely eaten anything."_

_She smiles. "It's wonderful. I'm just not quite hungry."_

"_Bullshit."_

_Clare blinks. "I beg your pardon?"_

_Eli takes a breath. Well, he plunged in this far, he may as well complete it. "Clare, you have to know I've noticed how you're eating. Even Bullfrog had commented on it. What is going on with you? I've never known you to be so particular and freaked out about eating. I mean… are you… do you… have you—"_

"_I'm not anorexic, Eli." She states softly, picking her fork up again and fiddling with the sides of her cake. "It's not like I want to be this way."_

"_Then why? Why do you do it?"_

_Sliding the fork and breaking off a bite, she puts it in front of his face. "Look at this." She says. "I can eat it, or I don't. It'll directly result in some sort of action in my body. I get to choose. I get to choose whether I eat it and risk getting heavier or just pass it aside."_

"_But Clare—"_

"_No, listen." She interrupts. "It didn't start out this bad." She says miserably. "At first, it was just a control thing. Everything in my life was suddenly snowballing out of control – it was horrible. I was losing everything. It occurred to me one day that I couldn't do anything about it. But, I could control what I ate and what I looked like. First, it started with just portion control. Small meal sizes and different foods. It felt so nice to be in control of everything. I was ruling my life once more._

"_Even my mom noticed. She doesn't notice when…" Clare breaks, trying to hold her tears. Eli knows this has to do with whatever mysterious event happened in her senior year, but resists the urge to pry. "But she notices me losing weight. So she puts me on an exercise regime, thinking that's why I was doing it. All I wanted was a little control in my life." She says pitifully. "Now I can't even control this. It's like the scorpion."_

"_What?"_

"_The scorpion from the old child's tale." She says. "The one who asked the turtle for a ride across the river. The turtle said, 'What if you sting me? Then I'll die.' And the scorpion said, 'I promise I won't. I just need to get across the river.' Halfway through the river, the scorpion stings him and the turtle descends in the water. The turtle cries, 'Why'd you do that? Now we'll both drown!' and the scorpion says, 'I'm sorry. It's just who I am. It's my nature.'"_

_And uncomfortable silence settles between them. Eli shakes his head. "No. No, I don't accept that." He snaps. "You need help, Clare. You can't keep doing this. You're going to run your body until it won't go anymore. I will not let this happen."_

"_Eli—"_

"_No, stop it." He cries. "You could be a healthy, thriving person. There are so many things that could kill us. We could be stabbed in school. Or shot by a gang member. Or hit by a car crossing the street. We never know when our time is over, but you can't hasten the process. Don't cheat yourself."_

"_I don't know how." She whispers. "This has been me for so long."_

_Without thinking of the ramifications, Eli places his hands over hers. "I'm here." He states. Her fingers are soft and he wants to intertwine them together. He doesn't. "I'm not going anywhere."_

_Clare bows her head, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Eli knows that's all the truths he's getting. With a fluid movement, he pulls Clare up and sweeps her close. "Now enough sadness. We're at a wedding. We should be celebrating. Is now the time I get to see the famous Edwards' dance moves?"_

"An old friend?" Eli repeats.

Clare nods. "Yeah. I met him my senior year." Eli hears the word 'him' play over and over in his head. "His name is Mike. Mike Dallas."

**XXX**

Eli tries not to think about the fact that Clare's with some other guy and not him. It hurts; he knows they're not dating and he has no right to be jealous, but he is. He looks at Clare's loopy handwriting on his wrist and almost washes it off, wanting to – quite literally – wash himself of Clare Edwards. He didn't even know who this Mike Dallas person was, but he already decided he didn't like him. People with the names 'Mike' were never good.

But he doesn't. Instead of scrubbing the numbers away, he finds himself dialing them in his phone, grumbling at the rings. An uncertain voice on the other side answers, "Um… hello?"

"Alli Bhandari?" Eli asks.

"Yeah…"

"This is Eli." When she doesn't make a sound, he sighs. "Eli Goldsworthy. Clare's ex?"

"Oh right!" She exclaims, her surprised tone still not gone. "H-How are you?"

"Peachy. I have a question about Clare." Hs residual anger is showing through his tone and he tells himself he's gotta make Alli like him for this to work.

"So glad you're back in my life." She drawls.

"The feeling's mutual." He says. "Anyways, why I called. And you can't tell Clare why."

"Eli, firstly, let me inform you of something. I was doing perfectly fine without you interrupting my life. Secondly, you can't just call me out of the blue and demand—"

"What happened to Clare senior year?" He asks over her. There's a pause, Eli only able to hear Alli's sharp intake of breath. "Something happened and I need to know what."

"Why do you think something happened?"

"Because. Clare's different. She… She doesn't laugh as much anymore. She's controls her food portions to the last ounce. She's just… different. And Adam said you may know why."

She doesn't answer. Eli grows impatient as he waits on the phone, hearing her breath eerily on the other side. "Eli," She says softly, every ounce of frustration with him gone. "Eli, I'm not the one to tell this story. It's not mine to tell."

"I don't care!" He ends up shouting and he hears a sharp intake of breath. "Everything is wrong!"

"Listen, Eli. Clare is messed up. She doesn't even talk to me anymore. She stopped talking a long time ago. She started again recently. Mentioned you."

"As flattered as I am by this fact, I need to know! I'm really concerned."

"I told you Eli, you have to have Clare talk to you."

"HOW?" He bellows.

"You _make _her."

He clicks the phone shut, unable to do anything else. Eli knows that he shouldn't be ruining the last shreds of a relationship they might forge. But maybe her advice isn't the worst in the world.

For too long he ignored it. Maybe he wanted to. It was so much easier to think that everything was okay. Eli was piecing himself together and he felt more whole. Clare made him feel warm. He felt more put together when she was around. Was it selfish, a part of him didn't want to rock the boat? It was easier to pretend that everything is fine because it was easier for him.

Pretending time is over.

Clare is walking out from her class and Eli leans against a piece of crap car that Bullfrog recently allowed him to drive when his license was given back to him. Clare waves her fingers at him, beaming broadly. Eli motions for her to come over and she skips over, swinging her books forward. "Eli, Eli! Where for art thou, Eli!" She calls, collapsing to one knee.

"Cute." He smirks. "Hey, I know you're meeting your friend, but do you have a moment?"

Clare smiles, patting the rusty car. "Is this your trusty steed?"

"The one and only." Eli laughs. "Don't be too rough with Angus. I don't want you to mess him up."

"Angus?" Clare repeats. "You have such a weird affinity to naming your vehicles. But, don't worry. I'll be gentle."

They enter the car and Eli puts his keys in the ignition, but doesn't turn it. "Clare, we need to talk."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Clare asks with a chuckle.

Eli doesn't return it. "Clare, we need to talk about what happened to you, senior year."

Clare ices over. It's instantaneous. Her eyes widen and suddenly she looks around the car, obviously wanting to escape. "No." She says definitively.

"Alli won't tell me."

"That's why you called her?" She exclaims, her voice breaking. "You called to gossip about me?"

"You need to tell me. Right. Now." He states. "I can't do this anymore!"

"I c-can't." Clare finally breaks, her eyes watering. "It'll change everything."

"I don't care!" Eli exclaims.

Clare shakes her head. "N-No. I can't tell you." Her fingers start to fumble with the door and instinctually, he presses the lock. She stares.

The car becomes stuffy.

Eli doesn't know what just happened, but Clare's staring at the lock going inside the door with wide eyes, her fingers frozen. "Let me out."

It's so quiet, Eli's not sure if he heard it. He doesn't move, because it almost feels feral. "Let me out." She says again, a little more forcefully. "L-Let me out. Let me out!" She's screaming now, her hands smacking against the car frame. Her trembling fingers try to bring the lock out, but can't. "Let me out, let me out! I want to go – let me go!"

"O-Okay!" Eli cries. He wants to let her out, but he's shaking too. He's fumbling and doesn't know how to.

"Let me _go_! I want to go!" She screams.

Eli finally presses the unlock button as and as soon as it shoots up, she throws the door open until it gives a horrible crunching metal sound. She freezes as soon as she's out, turning back quickly to stare at him with wide eyes, full of terror and betrayal. Without another word, she runs away, her textbooks still laying in the seat, one book a little different than the rest.

_Walking in Glass Slippers._

**A/N: Sorry such a late update! I brought Mike Dallas in because am I the only one who kinda ships a Mike/Clare friendship? In my mind, they make great friends. They're both stubborn and prone to making scenes… lol.**

**Ready for some exerts of Clare's book? Please review if you have the chance!**


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